Anywhere But You
by Beji
Summary: A night of mistakes can permanently alter a life, and all the lives around it... (b/v-nonAU!)
1. ABY 1

Wow…I'm so excited about this fic! I hope to make it my crowning glory, my fic to end all fics! Well, not END all of them, don't worry. But you know what I mean. ;)  So anyhow, here's what you will not see in this b/v get-together.

   **There will be 0, yes, that's ZERO uses of the words baka, onna, or any other Japanese word for that matter. Also, Vegeta is NOT in Bulma Boot Camp. He will NOT sandwich his words, "Woman, you are such a stupid baka Woman". It AIN'T happening! I can't STAND that! And yes, Yamcha will be a butthead…but not a total bastard. I don't like the guy, but I don't hate him to the core. And no lemons will be written. I don't write them, because I really couldn't write it realistically yet. For more check out my bio.**

   So, that's my main criteria for this fic. I'm aiming to keep it **NON-AU**, but since I didn't see EVERY episode of the android/cell saga, that part will be short. Not having the local DBZ channel does put limitations on ones ability to view the show. 

   Hope you like it, and here we go!

Oh, and while there will be some humor in this, it is not overall a humorous fic. The chapter titles will be cheesy and dramatic though, cuz it's fun. Kinda like the titles of the DBZ movies…

Anywhere But You 

**_~_**

**_Chapter One_**

**_~_**

**_Disaster Strikes!!_**

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       "Yeah sure, six is fine. See you there." Bulma hung up the phone, now even more firmly resolved to settle things that very night. Yamcha would receive her ultimatum, get married or they were over. At the moment she couldn't really decide which choice she'd prefer…she tended to lean towards the 'get married' one. She wasn't getting any younger, and they'd been in a relationship for a long time, surely they'd be happy as a married couple. But they had't gone out in over a month, and she didn't feel too hopeful about their future. Lately he'd made her feel more like the famous lady he could say he was going out with than the woman he loved. "Hi, this is my girlfriend, Bulma Briefs, president of Capsule Corporations. I'm Yamcha, nice to meet you." 

       She slumped down into the blue lazy boy and closed her eyes, melodramatically slinging one arm across her forehead. She cried out in mock anguish, "I'm in a dead relationship, whatever shall I do?"

       "Go to hell."

       "After you, Vegeta," she answered quickly, without opening her eyes. She could just _feel_ his smirk.

       "Ladies first…" 

       "Aw shut up…I've got a date to suffer through tonight and I'm not in the mood to play 'who's the wittiest' with you."

       "You just don't have a good comeback for that. Besides, I'm only warming you up for your ritual shouting match with that idiot." She opened her eyes and removed her arm to see a sarcastic innocence on his face, and she near fainted from trying not to burst into laughter.

       "Thanks soooo much," she returned, ire dripping from her words. He continued his path through the room, giving the chair a firm spin on his way past. Her eyes widened, and a wordless shriek escaped her mouth as she dug her heels into the plush carpet to stop the ride he'd put her on. Whe she stopped he had already left the room.

       "Vegeta! Stop flirting with me, dammit!!! You know as well as anyone that I'm taken!" An enraged shout could be heard, and the sickening crunch of plaster that could only be his fist going through a wall in revenge for her remark. "Asshole," she muttered, resolving to assess the damage after her date. 

       Having already dressed and primped, she slouched back into the corner of the couch, mindlessly flipping through channels. Her heart just wasn't in it as her thoughts returned time and again to the man she loved. Excuse me, _had_ loved, past tense. She wasn't sure how she felt about him anymore, it had been so long since their relationship had had meaning. Since it had feeling. She didn't like that. Perhaps, they weren't meant to be? What if she asked him tonight, and he said yes? And what if they were miserable together? Groaning, she closed her eyes and forced her thoughts towards the current show that she'd stopped on. 

       Boredom gnawed at her mind, forcing her off of the couch to wander aimlessly about the house, glaring at Vegeta whenever she passed the kitchen, where he was presently residing. She found the spot where a fist-sized hole was gaping in the wall, and occupied herself by setting a few repair bots to fixing it. An idea finally struck her interest-starved brain, and she grabbed the keys and hurried  out the door to where her car was kept. 

       Hopping into the '69 navy blue Corvette, she revved the engine, and sped off, intent on calming her nerves by way of some pre-date shopping. Pulling into the mal parking garage moments later, Bulma pulled into the double-wide space reserved for her by the 'Bulma Briefs' sign with the Capsule Corp. logo imprinted on the ground. On either side of her space sat a cement wall, insuring against anyone parking nearby. Remote locking her ride, Bulma pressed a finger to the touchpad on the edge of the space, and a heavy metal grid closed behind her vehicle, totally securing it, the only key to open the grate her own fingerprint. 

       She couldn't help smiling as three mall employees rushed out to greet her, wringing hands in agitation, although their faces portrayed nothing more than a welcoming smile. Eager to be alone, she waved them off, assuring them that she would be happy enough to shop alone today. A little unwilling to leave, they slowly bowed their way off into another direction.

       Oh yes, being rich _was_ good.

~

       Hours later, a furoius Bulma headed out to her car, wordlessly flipping off any mall employees that were brave enough to approach her. Climbing into her vehicle, she shut the door and paused before inserting the key into the ignition and clutched the steering wheel, biting her lip hard to stop it's trembling. She shook her head hard, centrifugal force sending droplets of moisture in every direction. Shoving the key into place, she revved the car and squealed out of the garage, unmindful of the scurrying shoppers who fled her path.

       Never before had she felt so, so angry, so…betrayed. Rage flashed through her again as glimpses of the nights happenings paraded across her vision, turning her driving into a suicidal race. Images of yamcha entering the designated restaurant, some blond bitch clinging to his arm, nattering on, oblivious to the shocked looks from the Capsule Corp. heiress. The bastard had the gall to introduce her to Bulma, trying hard to ignore the death glares that Bulma aimed at him, wishing to see his heart melt on her gas stove at home. After they were seated she roughly dragged Yamcha away, giving some lame excuse to the flake at the table.

       Swerving and nearly clipping the rear bumper of a trcuk, she screeched around a corner, tires struggling to grip the wet road; she despised rain, which was now drizzling over the city.

       Yamcha proceeded to explain that they hadn't even seen each other in months, and that he had assumed that they were no longer going out, thereby freeing him to pursue other interests. He was left with two flaming-red Bulma-sized handprints on his face as she stalked from the room, not even bothering to waste her breath yelling at him.

       Pulling into the driveway, she slammed on the brakes, stopping a good three inches short of the house. The rain had stopped, and as she walked towards the house she glared at the sky, daring it to rain on _her_. It faithfully complied, the moon even daring to shine a small bit of light through the clearing clouds. 

       A blur of motion caught her peripheral vision as the neighbor's white cat streaked past her to crawl beneath the car. Rolling her eyes, she unlocked the front door, entering a dark post-midnight house. Entering the kitchen and grasping a beer, she tried to quiet her mind, which only succeeded in alerting her to the soft hum of the Gravity room which was obviously still in use. She heavily sat on the kitchen table, quickly unscrewing her beverage and taking a long swallow. 

       The open windows allowed her to hear a long pain-filled wail from outside. Hurriedly setting her beer on the table she rushed towards the front door, her heart beating wildly in her chest. That sound…it set her teeth on edge, some enormous dread filled her. She heard scuffling by her Corvette, and that same cry came again. Grasping an umbrella in shaking hands, Bulma cautiously crept towards the gleaming wet Chevy, her eyes catching the same white cat she had spotted moments ago. At the point where the hood met windshield and mirror, the cat hung upside-down by its hind foot, caught tightly under the hood. It scrabbled uselessly trying to get back atop the car, then, weary, it hung down again, releasing a low moan of pain.

       "Are you just going to stare at it?" A tired, gravelly voice surprised her, and she turned to glare at Vegeta who was walking towards the animal. Lifting it with two hands, he asked that she remove it's foot from it's trap under the sheet of metal. Now free, it clung desperately to the Saiyan, claws digging into skin that remained unmarred by it's efforts. Bulma rubbed the creatures back gently, looking at the injured foot. 

       Seriously broken, the cat's foot was curled into a ball of broken bones. She hissed at the sight and led Vegeta, with the near-unremovable cat into the house towards the lab. 

       A short half hour later saw the cat sedated, the bones carefully set by a well-paid veterinarian who had come. 

       "Poor Smudge…" Bulma voiced as she and Vegeta returned to the kitchen, where she re-sat herself on the table and proceeded to guzzle her drink. "There's more in there, on the door," Bulma informed the Saiyajin, who looked even more in need of a drink than she did. His only acknowledgement to her was to grasp his own beer from the fridge and sit on the other side of the rounded piece of furniture from her.

       "Long day, eh?" She questioned, desperately trying to break the unnerving silencing by striking up a conversation. He looked at her from beneath lowered eyebrows, an obvious 'What the hell do you think?' look. She merely shrugged and rolled her eyes, ignoring his lack of chattiness tonight…like he ever was chatty.

       Returning to the refrigerator, she pulled out a few more beers and sat at the table now, instead of on it. Vegeta merely lay back with a sigh and stared at the ceiling. He accepted another bottle from the blue-haired female, and sat up just enough to down the contents in one fell swoop.

       His eyes widened and he clasped his head gingerly as the alcohol hit him hard in the gut.

       "Vegeta, do you even know what you're drinking?" Bulma questioned, eyeing the surprised alien from where she sat.

       "Not a clue, but it's warm and fuzzy on the way down," he growled out, his tongue finally loosened by the amber liquid.

       "That would be alcohol…go easy, it's mind-altering, like a drug. You don't need to get drunk," she answered matter-of-factly.

       "Drunk? What's drunk? Drunk drunk drunk…what an odd sounding word…you say it," He went on, turning to grin at her. She cringed, her warning had been a bit too late to do much good…she supposed that if Vegeta was this intoxicated after only two beers that his body merely reacted more quickly to the new beverage. 

       "Drunk is when you're…like you are. Very little self-control, everything's funny, your temper is short, speech slurred and nonsensical. You'll also have trouble walking straight." He pushed another beer towards her.

       "Join the party, we're having a blast over here and you're just sitting in this corner alone, moping around. Be happy." She pushed the unopened bottle back towards him.

       "I don't think so, Vegeta. I for one don't want to get trashed tonight."

       "But I'm lonely, being dah-runk. Won't you join me? I dare you to join me…"  She stared incredulously at the man on the table, his eyes lolling over in her direction. It was odd to see the usually stoic Vegeta reduced to such a state, a bit unnerving.

       "I think I'm a bit old to play truth or dare, Vege—"

       "I'll play too. If you join me, and prove me wrong, I'll take another drink…we'll go back and forth that way…it'll be fun," he promised, waggling his eyebrows in a frightening manner. She giggled, and against her better judgement, opened another brew.

       "You're on…"

~

       "I bet you're too drunk to…to…make a sandwich." Bulma laughed out, one hand slapping the table in glee.

       "I can't make a sandwich anyway…" Vegeta responded sadly, as if it was of some great anguish to him.

       "Ha! Then I win, your drink," she shoved their mutual bottle across the table, and he grimaced as he took another draught.

       "Well you're too drunk to make a sandwich either." Vegeta stated, and she stopped mid-giggle, defeatedly pulling the bottle to her lips and swallowing.

       "It's getting so damn hard to think of new ones…" she noted sorrowfully, scratching her head in deep thought. Her eyes lit up, and she looked brightly up at her drinking buddy.

       "_You_, are too drunk to have sex," she near shouted, and his jaw dropped. 

       "Wanna bet?" 

~

       An hour later Bulma blindly grasped the near empty bottle of beer and drank the remainder of the contents.

       "You win."

~

Author's note: There, it's freaking long, but I hope you liked it! Fear not my children, it ain't the end. Nowhere near. Alas, it is the end of this chapter though, and holy freaking shit… I'm tired. G'night! 


	2. ABY 2

What do you get when you cross an owl and a bungee cord?

…

My ass.

~

The Morning After!!

       Bright early morning sunlight streamed through the window, assaulting Bulma's eyelids. Groaning, she squeezed her eyes shut tightly and turned her head away from the encroaching light. A dull throbbing in her head pushed her further down the road towards consciousness, and a faint rumbling echoed through her ear, which was pressed against a smooth, sound-conducing surface. 

       The sound came again, and the surface her head was resting on shuffled, and turned slightly, bringing her to full awareness. Taking what she considered to be a great risk, she opened her eyes slowly.

       A round, pink nipple appeared in her vision. Gasping, she glanced upwards. 

       Vegeta's nipple. 

       She let out a fierce cry and arched backwards, away from the man that had his arm about her waist. Now also startled awake, Vegeta sat up sharply, knocking an already off-balance Bulma off the table, where they had seemingly spent the night. The aliens lone weight on one side of the unsturdy piece of furniture caused the table to tip over.

       Now both on the floor, panting and staring at the ceiling, the two shell-shocked sufferers of massive hangovers attempted to gain a grasp on the previous nights happenings. Bulma's mouth worked wordlessly, trying desperately to form words.

       "Oh my freaking G-d Vegeta. Oh my freaking G-d," was all she could manage, and she repeated the phrase another eight times, for effect. She glanced over timidly at the Saiyan, only to find a table on it's side in between them. Gaining some composure, she looked around and quickly found her articles of clothing scattered about on the floor. Pulling the wrinkled dress over her head, Bulma didn't even bother with undergarments as she slowly stood, her mind reeling with pain and shock as she leaned heavily on the wall.

       "Would you care to tell me just what happened last night?" Came Vegeta's quiet voice from where he was still positioned on the floor.

       "Good heavens Vegeta, I think that the soreness I feel and I'm sure you do too should answer your question. Not to mention the fact that I woke up _naked_ with you on the _table_." He hissed and stood to pull on his boxers before turning a heated glare on her.

       "Bitch. Is that how you humans take a mate? Drug them and steal their virginity?" His look shone of pure disgust, and she nearly recoiled from that venomous glare.

       "Come on now Vegeta, you couldn't have possibly been a virgin…" she released a wide-eyed gasp as a hand wrapped around her throat, pushing her against the wall. He moved so…fast.

       "Are you accusing me of whoring around like your pathetic species? I swear if you are…"

       "I didn't think it was that offensive to you. Gods Vegeta…" She ground out between gasps for air, which was now a precious commodity. He growled and stepped away, releasing her throat. She took a few deep steadying breaths as her eyes pierced his with decided uncertainty. "And I didn't drug you, usually a human can withstand a few beers before they get bitchin' drunk like you did. Just goes to prove how different your anatomy is, I guess. And as for stealing virginity, you took mine too, if it makes you happy. Always kept Yamcha from really committing to me, he wanted the whole package no obligation. Bulma Briefs doesn't work that way." His look was one of puzzlement, but at least the writhing anger was gone. 

       Gathering the rest of his clothing in thoughtful silence, Vegeta retired from the kitchen, leaving Bulma to clean their mess. She stuck her tongue out at his back, not liking the job he left her with.

       A short twenty minutes later and Bulma was trudging painfully upstairs to shower. She unconsciously stuck up her nose as she passed her houseguest's room. Oh sure, just go and act like it was _her_ fault they banged. Men. Typical.

       She was torn between a cold shower to ease her hangover, or a hot shower, to ease aching muscles. After much deliberation she decided on a hot one, resolving to take some migraine medication when she got out. 

       The steaming water eased her body, but put no restraints on her racing mind. Were they supposed to just brush off the situation with never a backward glance? She didn't suppose that anyone needed to know, not really. They had some drinks, they made mistakes, surely at the time it was fun. She cringed at the large blank space in her memory. How in all eight hells had it even led to that? Great gods, she'd been drunk before. She and Yamcha together had been quite smashed. And still nothing had resulted.

       Why was last night different?

       Of course, Vegeta probably had no reservations about taking advantage of her. Right?

       His reaction to her earlier statements nagged though, and she couldn't help but have serious doubts about that theory. He was the one that seemed to be having a cow over the situation. But why? Why why why? Why seemed to be the pervading question. 

       Why was he so upset about some alcohol-induced one-night stand? Why did she care? If he had been a virgin, then there was no risk of getting some foul disease. Assuming that he wasn't lying about that particular fact. Not to mention that she was at the lowest point of fertility in her cycle…pregnancy was a small worry.

       One way or another, she really needed to talk to him. Get to the bottom of things. And she'd be damned if she thought it would be easy.

~

       He stopped himself just short of slamming his bedroom door, not really in the mood to be bitched at more about destroying _her_ property. Damn her. Damn her all to hell. Damn.

       He stalked into the bathroom and turned on the hot water for a shower, and cursed as the liquid scalded his hand. Damn.

       How had things come to this? How could some pathetic human beverage affect him so easily? So _thoroughly_. She had effectively just screwed him over for life. Damn.

       But surely such basely instinctual things wouldn't take effect with another species…He hoped…

       He had long ago written himself off as 'single, not looking'. Surely no one with half a heart in their chests would allow him anything more than lukewarm feelings. Only someone with as much blood on their hands would look at him twice. And they probably thought the same of themselves anyhow. He chastised himself silently for rambling. Damn.

       Saiyajin were a dedicated lot, and generaly set themselves wholeheartedly after something they needed, or wanted. Perhaps since he was determined to ignore it, the singing of his blood when he was near her would just leave, or at least pipe down. If his concentration failed he could feel a vague pull towards her, almost irresistible. Almost.

       Double damn.

       He could hardly tolerate the woman! And only then when she was up for a rousing argument. He had never even looked at ther in _that_ way. It had been long since he had looked at any female in that way. Had he ever since his adolescent days, when Frieza had first found need to kill all emotion in him? He shied away from those thoughts, those memories, and turned the water off just as it began to run cold. Damn.

       His scowl deepened severely as he climbed from the shower and began toweling off, muscles in his lower back protesting adamantly. 

       Damn.

~

   Whew…things are getting interesting. I really need to work on some other fics…Like poor Perfum N 18! So neglected! 


	3. ABY 3

Well, I was just going to work on Halfbreed…but this one's been plaguing me. Damn stories demanding to be written…

Damn…enter cliché dream scene…I really don't want to write one, but it's realistic…I can certainly see it happening, considering Vegeta's past. Gah.

~

       Dark. It was so dark. He could not remember it ever being this dark. It was…suffocating. Like liquid ebony coating his unseen limbs, running slick into his open mouth, down his throat, choking. Open mouth? He was…screaming. Or would be, if it weren't for the living darkness cutting off his air, filling his lungs until his mouth only emitted a strangled, gurgling noise.

       Abruptly light pierced that invincible darkness, blinding him, freeing him. Suddenly he could breathe again, and he let die his afore-silent scream. The light converged, becoming a person…a woman. She was smiling, walking towards him with arms outstretched. He reached for her, his eyes taking in her soft azure hair, glistening blue eyes and small form. As she drew closer, he came to a dreadful realisation. Dreadful to his dream-mind, that one which thought only on the basest of levels, and yet brought forth the deepest truths.

       She was looking past him.

       Past him, towards an unknown, faceless man, who was likewise reaching towards her. He felt the darkness surround him again as she passed, bringing her light to this other man. He called to her as she continued by, pleaded with her to stop, that it wasn't right, and that she would find herself unable to be with anyone else. He prayed it was so, for his part he knew that her affair could mentally damage him permanently, no matter his feelings on the situation. He would not allow her to harm him.

       And finally, his words seemed to take effect, as she slowed to a stop just short of the man, and turned ever so slowly back towards him. 

       But it wasn't her.

       The woman had morphed rapidly into a form that he held much closer to his heart. The pale blonde hair, lavender-hued skin, and soft green eyes rushed past his retina into his disbelieving mind, into his heart, which was swiftly broken again at the sight. Her soft eyes, so _soft_, grew wide, filling with fear and pain, calling to him for help, for salvation from her fate. The darkness rushed in again, trapping him in place although he could still clearly define her gentle form.

       Her mouth opened in a resounding scream of anguish, and his heart, _he_ screamed along with her. She fell to the floor, at once broken and bleeding, her naked skin marred by abrasions, broken bones, and dark bruises. Her lifeless eyes stared through him from where she lay in a puddle of blood, and he screamed.

       He screamed until no sound could come from his damaged vocal cords, until all that escaped him was a keening moan.

       And he broke.

~

       Bulma leaned her head back against the chair, removing her glasses to gingerly massage the bridge of her nose, her eyes falling shut of their own accord. To say her head hurt would be an understatement…damn all the alcohol she'd had the night before. She'd worked herself to exhaustion, burying herself in projects and paper, all just to avoid…avoid going home. She refused to admit to herself that she was afraid of seeing Vegeta, or at the very least nervous.

       Why was this bothering her so much? She didn't even _remember_ sleeping with him…She groaned as she slowly stood; her body certainly remembered. There was just something that…didn't feel quite right…something was amiss, and the feeling was growing stronger as the moments passed.

       Calling it a night, she made her way down the long outdoor path to the housing complex. Dread overwhelmed her as she neared the tan dome, and the gravity room squatting beside it. The lights were still on inside, and against her better judgement, she walked towards it to peek in the window.

       She'd been sure to sound-proof the thing, leaving it with only a sound detector. Depending on the noise level within, a light by the door would flash green, yellow, or red. Tonight the flashing red caught her eye, and her brow creased in worry. She'd never seen the sound level that high before…what on earth was Vegeta doing in there? 

       Standing on tiptoe Bulma peeked through the thick window, and what she saw puzzled her. The dark feeling within her surged up with a vengeance, and she grew nauseous from it. 

       Vegeta was on his stomach on the floor, both hands clawing at the floor, making ruts in the reinforced metal. His mouth was open in a soundless cry, the look on his face one of agony. In her peripheral vision Bulma noticed the sound level fall from red to green, though Vegeta's expression remained the same.

       "Oh gods, Vegeta!" She punched in the code to open the door, simultaneously shutting down the gravity. She hopped impatiently from foot to foot while the door opened all-too slowly. As soon as she was able she ducked under the door and rushed to the fallen Saiyan, who was gasping for air. She knelt beside him, reaching for the man uncertainly…what was wrong with him? Shouldn't he have sensed her coming? Was he in too much pain for such thoughts? Looking over what she could see of him, she was unable to find any horribly distressing wounds, and certainly nothing he hadn't taken before without a second thought.

       She struggled to roll him onto his back, and immediately inspected his front-side. Now wounds there either. He was still straining for air, but she assumed it to be a combination of his earlier screaming and the heavy gravity pushing him into the floor.

       "Vegeta…Vegeta, snap out of it. What's wrong? What happened?" His breathing began to calm finally, but he still didn't open his eyes. With a start Bulma realized that he was unconcious, sleeping even. Had he been…dreaming?

       She laid a cool hand on his heated skin, softly touching his cheek. She watched curiously as he leaned into the caress, his deepened scowl eased somewhat and he finally breathed normally for one sleeping.

       "Vegeta…" she crooned, and his eyes drifted open. He stared past her for a moment before focusing on the woman hovering over him. "Bulma?" He whispered, and she nodded. He glared at her and sat up, moving out of reach in one motion.

       "What do you want?" He spat, self-consciously touching his face, his expression turning to horror as he scrubbed away the gathered moisture on his cheeks. "Get out," he demanded, shakily climbing to his feet while deciding that he'd rather have her gone than find out the reason she was even here.

       She glared at him, crossed her arms beneath her breasts and widened her stance. She was between him and the door, and she wasn't leaving anytime soon. "I walked all the way over to your damn capsule, came in this sweat-stench place, with you having seizures over there from some dream, and all I get is 'Get out'?!" 

       "Yes. Need I reiterate?"

       She glared death at him and stalked out the door. "See if I show _you_ any compassion next time…not that you ever felt such a thing, damn asshole…" she muttered as she exited, and Vegeta clenched trembling fists at his sides. The door closed with a soft whoosh, parting the two.

       Inside the room the man fell to his knees, finally giving in to his lack of composure after the dream…gods, why _now_ of all times did such things have to come back to haunt him? Why did _she_ still haunt him…how could he still be mourning her loss, fifteen years after the fact? He pushed thoughts of her away, still unable to comprehend why he couldn't get past her death…it was only one death, one among so many he had seen or caused, and this one in particular hadn't even been his fault…He repeated that thought to himself, mercilessly beating into his mind, his pained heart…

       _It wasn't your fault…it wasn't your fault…_

       Outside and walking towards the house, the woman carefully hid her hurt, bitter at his rejection of her help. But then, what had she expected? Nothing, she decided. She knew to expect _nothing_ from him, and she didn't understand why that hurt.

~

Well, it's short, but it's something. Hope you liked it, cuz I think I did…yeah…

**_!!!!!!REVIEW!!!!!!_**


	4. ABY 4

Bloop. Sympathy by Goo Goo Dolls. Bleep. Edited A LOT cuz it's freaking long and not everything applies. Blip.

WARNING FOR CONTENT ***This chapter contains mentions of rape, although no details are given. The parts that one might find objectionable are italicized, and short. So please no whining, I never promised y'all a happy flowers and pink ponies fic. *** 

~

**Stranger then your sympathy**

**I'm killing myself from the inside out**

**And all my fears have pushed you out**

I wish for things that I don't need 

**All I wanted**

**And what I chase won't set me free**

       A hot shower was called for to calm Vegeta's nerves, and hopefully ease his mind. It ended up doing neither, as his mind was pulled to a memory, one more fondly remembered. One of Amai, her lavender skin glistening with water as she bathed, her soft hands touching him lovingly under the hot spray, the heat of the water paling in comparison to that which they shared. And yet touch was all they did, and he lavished kisses on her face, neck, shoulders, gaining the sweetest satisfaction from her softly curved lips. Somehow…from their shared intimacy, although short of making love, had still been enough for him to gain a subconscious sense of her, a weakened emotional bond. Was this why she haunted him still? A piece of the puzzle of his memory of the other night came into place, and he recalled thinking only of Amai, even as he bonded with another. Guilt stabbed at him in much the same manner as the cascading water, and he squeezed his eyes shut. 

       It was wrong. 

       Everything about the situation with he and Bulma was wrong, oh so wrong. Why had it happened? Why had fate cursed them into being together, when he at least was bound to another. But obviously, the small link he had shared with Amai was not enough to stop him from mating, and how he hated it. He hated it, and he was near overcome with hate for life. His bonding with Bulma must have reawakened old wounds…old wounds he wished never to heal, lest he forget the consequences of sharing emotional intimacy with someone. He had never, never been as open with anyone as he had with Amai. And he regretted every moment of it, knowing full  well that it had led to her death. Her death before his eyes.

**Oh yeah everything's all wrong yeah**

**Everything's all wrong**

**Where the hell did I think I was**

**Stranger than your sympathy**

I'm killing myself from the inside out Now my head's been filled with doubt 

       He swayed on his feet, reaching blindly for the wall to staedy himself as uncalled for visions of her murder flashed behind his eyes, and he could only wait for the torrent to end…_Images of himself lying helpless on the floor, forced to watch her defiling at the hands of Frieza…forced to hear her virgin screams of pain echo through the room, tearing at his eardrums. She never took her crying gaze from his eyes, and he telepathically poured all the comfort, strength, even love as he could, struggling to help her through the pain amidst his own unbearable weakness. When it was over, she was placed none-too-gently at his side, and adrenaline pumped through his veins, lending him the strength to sit up and pull her into his arms. She sobbed uncontrollably, clutching weakly at his chest and attempting to find words._

 He quieted her, trailing kisses on her face and nuzzling her cheek, and her sobs died to sniffles, but he could see the emptiness in her eyes. Those gathered to watched snorted in disgust at the open displays of affection from the stoic Prince. 

       "That has to be the most disgusting thing I've ever seen the monkey do, don't you agree Zarbon?" Frieza grated. 

       "Yes…I'm feeling surpemely nauseous…" Zarbon returned, a look of pure annoyance on his face.

       Vegeta was unhearing as he focused on the girl in his arms, bleeding profusely in many places along with a few broken bones, her numerous injuries casued her to stare pain-blinded at the ceiling.   
       "Amai," he murmured, drawing her gaze to him with a soft caress to her cheek. Her green eyes met his black, and for a moment the warmth returned to her features, lighting into a smile on her lips. She brought a shaking hand to his face, and he leaned into the gesture desperately. 

       "Be strong, Vege-chan. Don't give up, don't let them beat you, beat _us_," her breath hitched, and she drew in a gasp, back arching as she again looked to the ceiling. She turned to stare fixedly back at Vegeta, moving her hand so that her thumb covered his lips.

       "I lov—" A needle thin spike of ki went through her skull, and the words died on her lips, as the light faded all-too-quickly from her emerald eyes. Frieza chuckled something about mushy endings and last words, but Vegeta was deaf beyond the blood pounding in his ears. He screamed his rage, sorrow, loss to the world. He screamed until his voice was so raw that he was unable to speak for a week there-after. And for another two months he chose to speak to no one.

       With a start the memory faded, and Vegeta found himself leaning heavily on the wall of the shower, the once hot spray now luke-warm on his skin.

 **It's hard to lead the life you choose**

**All I wanted**

**When all your luck's run out**

**Oh yeah it's easy to forget yeah**

**You choke on the regrets yeah**

**Who the hell did I think I was**

       A headache pounded the inside of his skull, and he groaned as he exited the stall, and the bathroom altogether. Dressing quickly, he headed downstairs for a quick bite to eat before pounding his insecurities out with a day of vigorous training. Unfortunately for him, Bulma already occupied the kitchen, although he merely ignored her, much to her disgruntlement. Her questions wore at him, though, and as he seated himself at the table, he deemed her worthy of an answer.

       "That dream still bugging you?" She queried, not expecting an answer. Which is why she appeared wholly shocked when he responded.

       "No," he lied, and she _totally_ bought it.

       "Riiiight. And _I_ married the fairy prince last night." He gingerly massaged his temples, wishing to Kami that she would just leave him be. The blue-haired heiress constituded over half of his problem, half that he didn't want to deal with at the moment.

       "I've just got a headache, okay? Now leave me be, wench," he ground out, earning him a venomous glare. 

       "There I go, acting the concerned hostess again. Forgive my intrusion, highness. Take one, and wait ten minutes. If only a pill could remove the stick up your ass…" Slamming a bottle of migraine relievers onto the table before him, Bulma stalked from the room. He stared evilly at the plastic container, teetering between throwing it through the wall and downing a pill for the hell of it. She was probably poisoning him, but at that point he could have cared less.

       Swallowing the tiny blue capsule, he grimaced. The plate of food followed immediately, and ten minutes later, the pain behind his eyes faded, and was gone. Begrudgingly grateful, he phased up to his bathroom, leaving the tiny container of medication on the counter before heading out to the Gravity room via the balcony.

**I'm not sure where I belong**

**Nowhere's home and I'm all wrong**

**And I wasn't all the things**

**I tried to make believe I was**

**And all the talk and all the lies**

**Were all the empty things disguised as me**

       Bloody, sweat-soaked and exhausted Vegeta returned to his room in the darkest hour of the night. He stumbled blindly to the bathroom, slumping weakly against the counter. He studied his moonlit features for what felt like an hour. He could only sneer at the image.

~

       Bulma's brow furrowed as she left her room and walked down the hallway towards the kitchen. A trail of blood and sweat marked the floor, and she studied the walls, finding a bloody handprint marring the white paint. 

       "Gods Vegeta, what have you done to yourself now? It's bad enough you do all this to yourself, but you don't have to screw up my house!" She stomped angrily to his room, only to find the door locked. Annoyed, she entered the override, and entered without any pretense of knocking. She flicked the lights on, uncaring that Vegeta would most likely be asleep. Puzzled by the lack of reaction, she ventured further into the room in search of the Prince. 

       "Vegeta?" She called, though no answer was forthcoming. The bathroom door was halfway closed, and she closed in, timidly knocking on the door. "Vegeta?" Turning on that light too, she attempted to push the door open, which proved to be more difficult than she had assumed. Pleing her head and shoulders into the room, she gasped at the sight behind the door. 

       A bloody Vegeta lay sprawled on the floor, his breathing heavy but shallow. Kneeling by his side, Bulma lay the back of her hand on his forehead; he was burning up. His pulse was slow and lethargic, and she glanced around worriedly for the nearest intercom. It was positioned above the counter, but another sight pulled her eyes to the smooth counter top.

       The bottle of migraine medication was on it's side, completely empty. 

~

Ooo, ouch. Things aren't looking too hot, eh? And the song is awesome, I know, but I had to cut it a bit, for length and content. Not BAD content, just stuff that didn't fit, as I explained before the chapter. Please review, y'all! I"ve been waiting eons to write this, and I'm soooo excited about it! Now I just need input!


	5. ABY 5

I aint' no doctor. Don't shoot me when I get stuff wrong. I'm trying here on what I know. 

~

      _ Last time…_

       A bloody Vegeta lay sprawled on the floor, his breathing heavy but shallow. Kneeling by his side, Bulma lay the back of her hand on his forehead; he was burning up. His pulse was slow and lethargic, and she glanced around worriedly for the nearest intercom. It was positioned beside the light switch, but another sight pulled her eyes to the smooth counter top.

       The bottle of migraine medication was on its side, completely empty.

       Transporting Vegeta to the medical bay proved to be little trouble, and within ten minutes of being discovered the Saiyajin was situated on a hospital bed. The in-house doctor the Briefs had hired after Vegeta's first incident with the gravity chamber was summoned immediately. Bulma quietly told the man of the prince's condition, and gave him the bottle that the pills had been in. Dr. Ralker studied the ingredients for a moment before springing into action, beginning with pumping Vegeta's stomach of the medication, which Bulma hadn't the strength to watch.

       For the first time the doctor found Vegeta's fast metabolism to be a problem, as his body had already absorbed most all of the powerful pain reliever. Hooking an oxygen tube under the Saiyajin's nostrils, he went to work on lowering his fever before it proved damaging. Having accomplished the feat to a small degree, he turned his attention to the fuming Bulma, who was grumbling under her breath about Saiyajin stupidity.

       "Ms. Briefs," he spoke softly, gaining the woman's attention. "Mr. Vegeta is doing somewhat better, but the drug is already in his bloodstream. I'm afraid all I can do is try to keep him alive for the next few hours, until the stuff wears off. He isn't out of the woods yet, but I'm optimistic." He gave her a half-smile before taking a weary seat next to Vegeta's bed. He was up checking the Saiyajin's vitals every ten minutes like clockwork, for which Bulma was grateful. 

       Bulma eyed the doctor inconspicuosly. He was of medium sized- build, with scruffy blond hair that was eternally out of place from his constantly running a hand through the thick mess. Eyes of piercing blue scanned data, and he looked up to meet her gaze briefly. She looked away, a faint blush creeping to her cheeks. She'd always had a slight crush on the young MD. One of the reasons she had hired him as an _in-house_ doctor. He had his own apartment across the living quarters from her family. Her mouth hung open slightly as he smiled beautifully. 

       What had she ever seen in Yamcha? Here was a successful guy, who already was aware of the existence of aliens, one living in the same house even, and he never batted an eye. She had never seen him with a girlfriend, which she found to be vaguely puzzling, but she didn't think on it too much.

       Bulma had just taken a seat herself when Goku materialized beside the bed, and she squeaked in surprise.

       "Goku!"

       "Bulma!"

       "What are you doing here?" They exclaimed in unison. Bulma quieted, giving her friend a hard look.

       "You first, what are you doing here?" 

       "I came to see Vegeta, his energy was _really_ low, I was worried. What happened? He looks fine to me…" Goku gestured to the other Saiyajin, who, minus the dark circles around his eyes and abnormally pale skin, appeared to merely be asleep.

       "I can't…really say what happened. Vegeta would most likely kill me. I'll leave the telling up to him when he wakes up. And what do you mean what am _I_ doing here? It's my freaking house, numbskull!"

       "Ok…well it's just that I didn't sense you before I came over…in fact, I still don't," he squinted in puzzlement, taking two steps closer to the frowning woman, his eyes dimmed in concentration. Suddenly his visage brightened, and he grinned at her.

       "Bulma! You never told me you were pregnant! Does Ve-Yamcha know?" Bulma stared at him dazedly, her jaw reaching nearly to her chest as she stared up at him in mortification.

       "Oh…my…G-d…" She murmured before her eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out. Goku's eyes glazed over in horror, and he grasped Bulma's shoulders desperately.

       "I killed her!" He managed in a strangled whisper, and the doctor burst out laughing. 

       "Don't worry, she's fine. She's passed out, not _dead_. I'll get a cold washcloth." The other man disappeared, returning moments later with a rag in hand. He applied it to his employer's forehead, and her eyes slowly drifted open.

       "You said _what_?" She whispered venomously, glaring death at Goku. 

       "If I tell you you're pregnant, will you die again?" The doctor snorted.

       "Why don't _I_ have a look at her, Goku?" Bulma glared him back, daring the doctor to get _near_ her.

       "There is no way in hell I'm pregnant! I'm a—" she paused, glancing ashamedly at the floor, forcing her eyes to _not_ look at Vegeta. "I've only done it once. And that was just two nights ago! There's no way you can tell!"

       "That kid must be pretty strong if I can feel it this early," Goku continued, mildly ignoring Bulma's comments.

       "Well, that is rather odd, Ms. Briefs." The doctor added. "We'll just have to check you in a few weeks when _my_ tests can tell us the truth, alright? Until then, don't be too worried."

       "Damn," she cursed. "And I was just about to invite you to dinner…" He gave her a puzzled frown, turning the chair beside her around and seating himself on it backwards.

       "Pregnant or not, wouldn't the possible father object to you going out?" She sighed in spite of herself.

       "No, he wouldn't care. It was…a one time thing. Goku, could you excuse us? I don't mean to be rude but…I'll call you if anything happens, okay?"

       "Sure, see you later. Tell Vegeta I hope he feels better!" Putting two fingers to his forehead, Goku disappeared.

       Silence reigned for minutes afterward, and Seth (Ralker, the doctor) feared Bulma had forgotten the subject at hand. She still appeared distressed, although over what was still an unknown to the blond man.

       "We were drunk," she spoke finally, startling him. Her quiet voice was tainted with bitterness. "My first time, and I don't remember a thing, aside from the fact that it was with a man that cares nothing for me, and I don't like him either! And now I might be pregnant! He's gonna kill me…" she moaned. Her eyes flicked worriedly to Vegeta of their own accord, an act the doctor failed to miss.

       "Do you mind if I make a wild guess at the mystery man?" Seth questioned timidly. She merely shrugged indifference. He gestured towards the Saiyajin, his eyebrows raised slightly in question. Bulma bit her lip, and nodded once.

       "How can he impregnate you? He's a different species…"

       "Goku's Saiyajin also…he and his human wife have the sweetest little boy you'd ever hope to meet. We're quite compatible, I'm afraid." He appeared thoughtful.

       "You want some lunch? I've got the number for Chinese take-out in my wallet…" She smiled, and he left to find the phone, across the room. Moments later he returned to his eat, assuring her that the food would arrive in twnety minutes.

       "So what're you worried about with this guy? Sure, he's cranky, but he can't be so heartless as to turn away his own kid, right?" She cringed at his words.

       "You have no _earthly_ idea how heartless that man can be. He's massacred entire planets in his lifetime…"

       "Literally?" Seth questioned in a disbelieving tone. "I never thought he was that bad…"

       "Believe it. He's had a rough life, to say the least. Wat I don't get is why he's so bothered by the other night. I mean, he was way more upset than I was!"

       "Is that possible?" Seth taunted, sarcasm tinging his soft tone. She slapped his arm lightly in mock offense.

       "_Anyhow_, I just don't understand what's got him so bugged. I mean, he can't get STD's or anything from me, _he_ can't get pregnant, unless there's something about the Saiyajin race that he hasn't told me…and he still claims it was his first time, though I find that hard to believe."

       "Well, you said that was your first as well, which I find hard to comprehend, taking into account your beauty and striking personality…" His eyes twinkled merrily, and she blushed again. "Maybe his culture is different in that aspect, huh?" She paused, thinking over the concept. Truly, she knew next to nothing about the finer points of Saiyajin culture. She had merely brushed them off as a 'kill or be killed' society, in which chaos reigned. Her thoughts drifted back to the previous morning…

       _"Bitch. Is that how you humans take a mate? Drug them and steal their virginity?"_ The tone of his voice had been undeniable. The sheer shock radiated off of him in tangible waves…

_       "Are you accusing me of whoring around like your pathetic species?"_ How could she have missed all this? Given, her state at the time had been no less surprised and ashamed, but still.

       "I think…you may be onto something. I'll have to discuss it with him sometime…once I've gotten him out of this funk he's in. The guy seems perpetually depressed, but I never considered him to be the kind to attempt something like this…He always seemed so strong…" He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

       "Even the strong have their downtimes, perhaps this one just hit him hard." The intercom chimed, and Bulma rose to get the food.

       As she walked to the door, jumbled thoughts of Vegeta filled her head; with each new revelation, the Prince only managed to confuse her more…

~

Ouch, things might get interesting pretty soon here! Thank youmuch for all the wonderful reviews last cahpter, let's make it happen again!!

    So **_REVIEW DAMMIT!!! _**

;P


	6. ABY 6

"…the nuts to me are the bodies draperie, where as the ass is like the coffee table. I can put a cigarette out on my ass and it'd be okay…"

LOL…don't ask. Really, just, DON'T ASK. 96X rocks…

~

       Vegeta awakened mere hours later, very groggy and dazed, but overall doing better. He looked around in a confused manner, wondering silently why he wasn't seeing yellow clouds and a long white road. Or hell, at least. Why was he still in Capsule Corp? Why was _she_ still here, part of the reason he'd been bent on escaping his hell of a life. Why wouldn't they let him go. She was bent over him, speaking worried tones that he failed to understand. 

       Her eyes were full of pity, and he was filled with loathing. He had been so cowardly, and taken the coward's way out. He could of at least just blown up the planet and taken someone with him. At least then there would be no room for error…he wouldn't still be here facing his humiliation. For such a pathetic race, the humans had more than laid him low…why couldn't he just die, as he should have done over a year ago? He did die over a year ago, but the humans wished him back only to belittle him more. 

       He was nothing.

       Less than nothing.

       He noticed the throbbing pain searing his head, and he gingerly brought his hands to his aching skull. Now gripping a cool cloth, Bulma attempted to place it on his forehead. He violently swatted at her hand, hearing a low growl emerging from his throat. The rag flew from her hand at the impact, and she woundedly clutched the appendage to her chest. Only now did the Saiyan notice the doctor, who was presently examining the woman's frail hand tenderly. 

       Too tenderly.

       Alarms sounded distantly in Vegeta's head, and he glared hatred at the man. Pulling various medical instruments free of their attachment to his skin, the smaller man painfully sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing on shaky legs. White-hot agony shot through his body, and he winced, refusing to pass out from the nervous overload. He took a small step towards the two, and stopped, not allowing them to know he couldn't take another step.

       "Get the fuck away from her," he ground out, not liking how his voice broke. He glared at the doctor, who bravely (or stupidly) didn't back down and returned his harsh look. 

       "She doesn't belong to you Vegeta. Maybe you should lay—"

       "SHUT UP!" the prince shouted. 

       "Why should he shut up? He's right! And he's correct in advising you to lay down. You're not well Vegeta, you know that." Bulma snapped fiercely. 

       "Stop saying that! You know nothing! You ARE mine, whether we like it or not. Just as I am…I am…_yours_." His voice was pained, more pained than she had ever heard it. She gave him a confused look, relenting somewhat.

       "Do explain…" she remarked, mostly to herself.

       "Not with _him_ here, he is not part of this," Vegeta pointed an accusing finger at Seth, who was visibly displeased with his patient. 

       "I'll go if you lay back down…" The Saiyan sneered in response to the weaker man and extended his open hand, palm towards the doctor. A glow appeared around his hand and formed into a small ball of light.

       "Don't push your luck, bastard. When someone gives you the chance to let you leave with all your limbs, it's wise to take it..." 

       "The thanks I get for saving your damn life—" Vegeta growled audibly, the ball of ki in his hand increasing in power.

       "You think I'm thankful for that?!"

       "Alright alright! I'm gone already!" He left in a huff. "Dumb fuck," Vegeta muttered to the retreating man's back. The door slid shut, and Vegeta stepped back to half sit on the bed, barely restraining a deep sigh of relief.

       "Vegeta, we need to talk about this…"

       "There's nothing to say. You pulled a damn hero act and stopped me…" He muttered, staring hard at the floor. "There is nothing for me here…nothing."

       "What are you saying?! There's plenty for you here! There's…there's…well, we need your help with the androids!" She said sheepishly, her speech losing momentum as she spoke. 'Gods Bulma, open mouth, insert foot' she thought, humiliated.

       "Why Bulma, you've given me new purpose. I now have a reason to go on. I'll train to destroy the androids that threaten the very planet _I tried to destroy_! Absolutely brilliant…" he muttered venomously, and she blushed bright red.

       "I sucked in public speaking—"

       "It's the private speaking you need help with, wench." Her blue eyes flashed with renewed anger. 

       "Quit calling me wench! It's degrading, and unfitting for a prince to speak so of the wealthiest woman on this planet."

       "That's saying a lot…" Vegeta murmured.

       "I heard that!"

       "That would be why I said it. Had I not wanted you to hear, I might have kept my mouth shut."

       "Enough! Can we be serious for one fucking moment?! At least while we discuss a serious matter? You've got a seroius problem here Vegeta. For whatever reason, you just tried to kill yourself, and I want to know what's got you so damn depressed! So you're not a Super Saiyan. So you don't have a girlfriend. So we accidentally had sex the other night whilst intoxicated! Shit happens Vegeta, you of all people should know that…" He glared at the floor, a faint blush tinging pale cheeks.

       "You still don't know the full implications of that night—"

       "Neither do you," Bulma shot back, arms crossed and foot tapping dangerously.

       "Well, do enlighten me…" He sneered, still not meeting her gaze.      

       "I want to know what in all eight hells makes you think that one night of drunken fucking makes me yours! There was no emotional involvement, no mutual attraction…we were smashed and things got hot. It happens Vegeta! Quit worrying about it! And quit telling me I don't understand, 'cause I'm pretty damn sure that I understand my side of this! Just because I'm pregnant with your child (which has yet to be proven) doesn't mean you and I have to be involved together. You do your part, I'll do mine and mmph—" A hand clamped roughly over her mouth, ending her tirade.

       "You're _what_?" She glared at him over his hand, and he released her, glaring in return. 

       "Goku was here earlier…" Vegta grunted in annoyance, but Bulma ignored him and continued. "He said he could sense another energy signature within me…he assumed I was pregnant. I would take a pregnancy test, but it's too early for those to work, so we'll just have to wait…" Vegeta roughly placed his hand on her belly, ignoring her protesting yelp. His eyes took on a faraway look, before narrowing angrily. She squirmed uncomfortably, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks.

       "Damn fool was right…no human child would be that strong so early." She rolled her eyes. 

       "Not to mention I've _never done it with anyone else_! There's no doubt the child is yours…Gods, we're really fucked up, aren't we?" 

       "Beyond fucked up, but you still don't understand everything…"

       "Would you quit saying that and explain it to me?! Why are we attached? I don't want to be with you like that…"

       "We have no choice now. Saiyans arre a slightly telepathic species, although empathy tends to be stronger. Although many Saiyans pursued relationships with the opposite sex, very few risked the dangers to their sanity that bonding presents…"

       "Bonding? And what do you mean, danger to their sanity?"

       "A couple would consumate their relationship with a ritual ceremony involving their first time having sex. The ceremony is private, obviously. But…it creates an empathic bond between the two individuals, breakable only by death." She stared at him.

       "Vegeta, that has to be the biggest load of shit I've ever heard. The Saiyan race revolved around nothing but violence, which almost always bleeds over into sex. And now you're trying to tell me that only those Saiyans that wished to have a mate for life had sex? It's utterly preposterous! Second of all, I'm not Saiyan, so this shouldn't affect what happened between us! I have no telepathic awareness of you, we're not bonded!"

       Vegeta's hand twitched as he resisted the strong urge to slap her.

       "Fine. You like that damn doctor, right? You were attracted to him? I want you to go seduce him, and tell me what happens. Consider it an experiment, to see if this bond is real between us. You want answers now? Go get them, I could tell he was turned on to you." The Saiyan grated, trying for all his worth to sound confident when he was quivering with fear inside. This could have permanent effects on his mental and emotional health if things didn't go exactly as expected. 

       "I will! Either way, I lose nothing. I could never pass up the chance to prove you wrong… Now go to sleep, I'll wake you when I get back."

       "I'm not tired." She rolled her eyes.

       "And I'm not pregnant. Lay down, asswipe." He grunted in surprise as she easily pushed him back onto the bed and pulled a sheet over his boxer-clad form. "See you on the flipside…" She called to him over her shoulder as she left the room, her hips swaying enticingly in anticipation.

       Striding down the long hallways of Capsule Corporation, Bulma didn't allow herself to feel the trepidation pounding through her veins. What if Vegeta was right? She questioned herself, trying to justify all the doubts that entered her mind. What heinous thing would happen to her? Why the hell was he asking her to do this, after he claimed she was _his_. No. No way in hell would _that_ man claim her after just one night, especially considering the circumstances.

       Reaching the door to Seth's apartment, Bulma silently collected herself before ringing the door chime. There was a short wait, and she was on the verge of leaving when the door swished open, revealing a shirtless Dr. Ralker. His eyebrows raised as he gazed at her. 

       "Bulma," was all he managed to say before she leaned forward, planting a palm on each side of his chest and pressing her lips to his. 

~

    Heehee, evil cliffhanger! Don't worry, I'm not overlooking Vegeta's self-destructive act, it simply didn't have a good place to be brought up in this chapter.

    So, what's gonna happen to Bulma? How will this affect our dear Veggie-head? Find out all this and more, in the next episode of…aw nevermind. I'll shut up now. x_x 

    I get to see Lifehouse in concert tomorrow night! My first concert! Well, my first _secular_ concert. Damn parents. I'm going with an adult too, even though I've got my license and my own vehicle. Aw well, he's cool. Lifehouse!!! The first cd I bought was their No Name Face. They totally rock. *gives thumbs up*


	7. ABY 7

So here we are again, have you forgiven me for the cliffhanger yet? Didn't think so. Oh well, I didn't make it a cliffhanger to make y'all LIKE me, so who gives a damn? Not me…

Last time… 

      _ Reaching the door to Seth's apartment, Bulma silently collected herself before ringing the door chime. There was a short wait, and she was on the verge of leaving when the door swished open, revealing a shirtless Dr. Ralker. His eyebrows raised as he gazed at her. _

_       "Bulma," was all he managed to say before she leaned forward, planting a palm on each side of his chest and pressing her lips to his. _

~

       Bulma recoiled immediately, a feeling similar to electrocution shooting through her nerves as her world went white. Her stomach churned, and she fell to her knees in time to vomit violently on his doorstep. After her stomach felt less then empty, she dry retched a few times, tears leaking down her face. She gasped for air, drawing in short lungfuls of air that reeked of her own bile. She fought down the urge to retch again, ignoring the aching sensation in her lips and hands where she had touched Seth.

       She shakily stood, reaching inside the door to press a button, summoning a cleaning bot. 

       "Are you okay?! What the fuck just happened?" Bulma only half heard the shocked man, scrubbing futilely at her wet cheeks. 

       "He tricked me. The bastard fucking tricked me!" She muttered murderously to herself, storming back in the direction she had come from. Seth could only stare at her back in utter confusion, his calls to her ignored.

       Harshly punching the switch to open the door to the medical bay, Bulma stalked through the door, looking around furiously for Vegeta when she didn't see him in bed. Her gaze landed on him where he was crouched on the floor, one hand wiping his mouth, the other clutching the small wastebasket in the corner. 

       "Great job, genius. I didn't think you'd actually do something that foolish…I figured your stupid emotions would stop you from risking harm to his fragile heart."

       "Just what was that? And why are you throwing up?" He glared at her in pure frustration.

       "Did you not listen to _anything_ I said before you left? It's an _empathic_ bond. I feel what you feel, to a slightly lesser degree. And the reverse is true. I did not sustain as violent a reaction as you did, but it was still…unpleasant." She would have pouted, had she not been retaining her anger. 

       "You fooled me, you knew that would happen—"

       "To me, yes! I was hoping it had the same effect on you, being human and what not. Apparently, my hopes were not in vain…"

       "So I can't be involved with anyone else? Where the fuck did my life go wrong?!" She cried out, visibly upset.

       "It went wrong when you handed me that drink! You gave me human drugs, fully aware of their effect on me!"

       "I did no such thing! How was I supposed to know that you couldn't hold your liquor? Most men on this planet can take three or four before they get as hammered as you did on one!"

       "Last I checked I wasn't from this planet, for starters. Secondly, you're the one that chellenged me to do it in the first place!" Her eyes widened in shock.

       "You remember?" She whispered, touching her fingers to her lips.

       "Bits and pieces. Enough to know that you weren't the female on my mind at the time…" She took a step back, wounded. She had at least hoped that their actions that night had been the effect of alcohol mixed with deeply submerged feelings. And now…it made fer feel even more dirty, to think that he simply used her body while recalling some other woman, one who actually meant something to him. 

       "I…I…I'm tired, I've been up all night with his-stupidness. I'm going to take a nap, wake me up if you decide to commit any more acts of self-destruction. Otherwise, I'm dead to the world…" She walked slowly from the medical bay, dazedly walking the short way down the hall to her bedroom.

       Closing the door slowly, Bulma collapsed exhaustedly down onto the mattress, thinking over everything she had done in the past few days, how each seemingly minor decision had managed to steer her life in this unwanted direction. How a beer had led to her pregnancy, and unforeseen attachment to a man she couldn't even call her friend. They argued a lot, sometimes the mutually traded insults were humorous, other times injurious and malicious. 

       And now…she had never felt so alone. She knew that she would also remain alone, and the thought brought bitter tears to her eyes. Her dreams were crushed beneath the heavy weight of her awareness of Vegeta, awakened by the sharp jolt she had received from kissing Seth. He was sleeping, she knew, and if she concentrated she was able to see his dream…

~

       He turned over and over in the bed, unconscious of his restlessness as the dream from before was played before his minds eye yet again.

       Darkness closed in, choking, suffocating. Bulma appeared, suffusing the darkness, freeing the air around him to travel again into his burning lungs. But she didn't travel past him, merely watched him sadly, her eyes asking, pleading to free her. He sensed a presence behind him and turned, coming face to face with the apparition of Amai. He cringed as she stared at him with the same expression as the woman now behind him. Tear filled green eyes regarded him with such pain, and she slowly walked forward, laying a hand on his cheek. He reached up to touch her face in return, his hand passing right through her form. His brow creased, and she reched up, gently attempting to smooth the furrowed skin with the pad of her thumb.

~

       It was a little odd to see herself in his dream, she could only guess that this was how he envisioned her. Or perhaps this version was just how he pictured her to be judging by her current emotional state. But he faced another woman, one that was drawing a reaction out of him that Bulma had never imagined. He looked…so pained, and guilt-stricken. She was beautiful, but young, _so young_. She couldn't be any more than fifteen, Bulma guessed. 

       "You're giving up," she whispered, causing Vegeta eyes to turn downwards. "He's still beating you, what you tried just proved it."

       "You're dead, so why won't you leave me alone?" He questioned hoarsely, not liking the truth of her words. "I would gladly 'let you go', if it was I holding you. Vege-chan, you must let _me_ go, there is one that needs you yet…"

       Vegeta's temper flared slightly, unable to hide his disbelief. "How can you say that? _I_ betrayed _you_! And now there is no changing it. I hoped that in death I could join you." The last was barely above a whisper, but Bulma heard none-the-less. 

       "She doesn't deserve that. Neither one of you asked for this," the girl's eyes flicked past Vegeta to Bulma again, "but there is no running from it. I'm gone Vegeta, and I'm not coming back. Let me go." She kissed him once, fading away while his eyes were closed. 

       Bulma opened her eyes, staring hard at the ceiling. Damn that man and his weird dreams! It meant nothing, she reminded herself. He was delusional from all the pain medication he had taken the night before. So his old flame was dead, it wasn't surprising. His whole planet was gone, and he himself had killed millions. It was what he deserved. She frowned, ashamed that she had even thought such a thing. No one deserved to have someone they loved die. Not even Vegeta.

       Troubled by her own compassion towards the Saiyan, she wriggled closer to the night table, shaking a sleeping pill out of its bottle, she downed it, taking a long swallow from the glass of water on the table.

       She restlessly shuffled around beneath her comforter, waiting for the sleeping aid to take effect and push her into oblivion. She tried to keep Vegeta from her mind, but her efforts proved fruitless. The man whirled through her head, and she paused repeatedly to check on him mentally. It felt so odd to have this sixth sense of him, to know what he was doing, how he was feeling, and, to some extent, what he was thinking. When awake, he seemed able to shield his thoughts, but his emotions lay open to her always. 

       Her thoughts grew fuzzy, and slurred together in an unreadable manner. Eyes growing heavy, Bulma drifted into a sorely-needed slumber.

~

My last update before going to NY for two weeks, lots of writing will get done there, so look forward to new stuff next year!


	8. ABY 8

Lumpah dee doo…

~

       Waking in a cold sweat, Vegeta stared forlornly at the ceiling, waiting for his breath to slow to a normal pace. His mind whirled with disembodied thoughts of Amai, Bulma, and whether either had been real. Shared dreams were supposedly a part of being mated…he hoped that that hadn't _really_ been Bulma…if so; he had been shamed once again in front of her. No self-respecting man could have a relationship with a woman that had seen him humiliated time and again. He had long since lost track of how many times this planet and its people had cut him down.

       A bitter smile lit his features; how long had it been since he'd respected himself? He had failed at everything…at life in general. How he could be one of the most powerful beings in the universe and still screw up his life at every turn was beyond him. Hell, he had even screwed up millions of other lives, including that of the woman who had been kind to him in spite of everything, had brought him into her home, fed him, built things to help him become stronger…all for what? So he could help defeat the androids? In all the years their beloved Kakkarott had been around the other 'fighters' had all proved useless. In the end it was always the same man who won the day. 

       In short, he found it hard to believe that was why she allowed him to stay. Surely she believed her dear friend would prevail yet again. So why? She baffled him. At every turn she showed extreme dislike towards him, and yet he stayed…she continued to feed and clothe him, support him in many ways… He had never felt so truly confused.

       Closing his eyes, he could sense her own confusion as she attempted to sort things out. Echoes of her thoughts flitted through his mind, most of which he disregarded as gibberish. A part of her was panicking, watching her dreams become crushed by their 'attachment'…her dreams of a family, children, a man that would love her, be with her always. A pang of guilt swept through him, one that he quickly quieted; none of this was his fault. 

       A sharp growl seemed to echo in the quiet room, emanating out from his empty stomach, and he slowly stood, ignoring the pain that flashed through his head. Bulma had been asleep for an hour now, but it was restless, and she was waking again, despite whatever medication he knew she must have taken.

       He kept one hand on the wall to keep steady, denying how watery his muscles felt as he slowly made his way to the kitchen. Arriving in the desired room, he switched on the small light over the stove, and turned to dig through the refrigerator. Pulling out a sizeable portion of leftover fried chicken and pouring himself a glass of milk, Vegeta seated himself at the table. Able to both sense and hear Bulma approaching, he rose and filled the teakettle with water and put it on the stove, switching on the proper burner. The last thing he wanted was a very tired human clanging around and generally increasing his headache.

       Stumbling into the kitchen, Bulma stared for a moment at Vegeta, contemplating his presence before making her way over to the stove. She found the kettle full and well on it's way to boiling, and, surprisingly, failed to react. Retrieving a packet of hot chocolate from the cupboard, she poured it into an empty mug, following it with the hot water. Once finished, she seated herself at the table, curiously next to Vegeta. He shifted sideways slightly, away from her. She yawned hugely, raising the steaming mug to her lips to take a tiny sip. She seemed to be somewhat invigorated from the drink, though to Vegeta she still appeared half-dead.

       "Remind me never to take a sleeping pill when I'm stressed out." She mumbled, still not looking at the man beside her.

       "Never take a sleeping pill when you're stressed out," he repeated. Her head turned to stare at him blandly.

       "Bastard." He let the comment lie, instead downing another cold chicken breast. "Ugh, my head hurts…" She leaned her face into her hands.

       "No, _my_ head hurts. You just feel the echo of it." 

       "Do I?"

       "Yes."

       "Oh." She laid her head on her crossed arms, leaning on the table. She yawned, eyes drifting shut. Slumber claimed her almost immediately, and she slumped sideways into Vegeta as her muscles went slack. He grimaced, frowning down at her but not moving. He finished the last piece of chicken and drank the remainder of the milk, still scowling in her direction. Leaving the dishes where they lay, he turned and gently pulled her into his arms, standing slowly and exiting upstairs. She murmured softly, turning her head towards his broad chest.

       "Stupid human," he mumbled, feeling remarkably comfortable, however much he disliked the thought of feeling comfortable with her in his arms. He deposited her still form on her bed, pulling the comforter from where it was tucked into the end of the bed and piling it haphazardly on top of her. She stirred, and shivered once, and fell back into deeper sleep.

       Angry at how weak he felt after such a short trip with a light burden, he retired to his own room, crawling under the covers. Sleep didn't come quickly, but when it came, it was deep, and dreamless.

~

       Bulma sighed, banging her head on her desk in frustration. She couldn't concentrate for her life…she wished there was someone she could go to, who could give her advice. She had tried for hours to ignore the small ball of consciousness that now resided in her head. He was always foremost on her thoughts, and she hated it. Surely the Saiyajin race had never had difficulties with infidelity; one couldn't get one's mind off their partner. 

       She was still a bit puzzled over the night's events…she had vague memories of seeing Vegeta in the kitchen…but that was preposterous, she had awoken in her own bed…but not under the covers. She knew she'd fallen asleep under the covers the first time, but in the morning she was positioned atop her sheets, with only the comforter over her. Perhaps she had walked back to her room and been too sleepy to think of getting under all the covers…Yes, that must be it, she decided. 

       Snarling in anger, she realized she had again strayed to the subject of Vegeta. She would go talk to Goku after work…she could always talk to him about anything. 

       Focusing her eyes on the screen before her, she returned to work, determined to get _something_ done before the end of the day.

~

       Bulma flew out to Mount Paozu (does anyone know how to spell that damn word? I could read it if I had my manga with me…Damn I love being able to read Japanese…), following the three figures darting about in the air to the east of the house. She wanted to avoid a confrontation with Chi-Chi as much as she wanted to speak with Son alone, so she continued straight towards what she assumed to be their training grounds. Ladning just outside the circle of danger-the ground had been completely incinerated in the area they were in-she got out of the helojet, calling loudly for Goku. 

       The three stopped abruptly, peering down at her as one. She shifted uncomfortably; she had forgotten that she would be interrupting their training…Goku flew down, landing before her on silent feet. 

       "Hey Bulma, what's up?" He asked cheerily, and Bulma felt a smile tugging at her lips; his cheerfulness had always been infectious.

       "Nothing too big, I was just coming to talk to you…if you're busy I'll come back later, tomorrow or something…"

       "No, you're fine," he turned to his sparring partners, the much larger of the two was decidedly impatient judging by the tapping of his foot in the air. "You guys go ahead, I'll be back in a little while!" He called up to them, and with a shrug, the two continued their sparring match one man short.

       "You okay Bulma? You seem troubled," he asked gently, and she felt her shoulders slump. For a man that could be so utterly thick-headed, naïve, and generally inattentive, he could be quite insightful at times. Always when she wanted nothing more than for everyone to think she was fine. But then, she had come to discuss things with him, right? 

       "No, I'm not okay, and it has alot to do with your telling me I'm pregnant, which Vegeta has since verified for me. Goku, Vegeta and I are…we're…" He put a soft hand on her shoulder, smiling lightly.

       "I know. Congratulations!" She looked at him in horror.

       "How do you know? And what do you mean congatulations? It's killing me being attached to this guy!"

       "I just put two and two together…" he lied. "It's killing you? Didn't you guys _want_ to be together?"

       "NO! Hell no! We were _drunk_ Goku, and we, we, well you know!"

       "Ohhhh, you guys bonded." 

       "Am I the only one that didn't know about this thing?"

       "No. Chi-Chi and I thought it was some side-effect of, _you know_. Until Vegeta told me it was a Saiyajin thing…to this day Chi-Chi still doesn't know. I'm scared of telling her I discussed _that_ with someone, especially Vegeta. We had never talked aobut it with anyone else because we figured if no one had told us about it, it must be some taboo subject… Silly us, huh?"

       "But you guys wanted to be together…" Bulma grumbled. He squeezed her shoulder once comfortingly.

       "Give it time Bulma. Time can change everything…"

       "The only way I want this to change is for this damned bond to go away so I can be with a man _I_ choose." He smirked at her knowingly.

       "Thanks Son, I knew I could talk to you about this." She hugged him briefly, and wondered at the fact that neither was effected by the contact with one of the opposite sex. Assuming that it was because they held only friendly feelings for one another, she released the large man, smiling once again.

       "I'm always here if you need to talk." He responded warmly, closing the door for her once she was seated inside. 

       She took off towards home, feeling incredibly light and much better about her current situation.

~

There you are. Don't worry, be happy. Next chapter is all done…the next one after that very close to finished. Enjoy, review!!


	9. ABY 9

Last chapter and this one were all one huge chapter, but I cut it down to more normal lengths. Wouldn't want to give y'all false hope for a LONG chapter. ;) 

    I had fun with this one. It was just, fun. ^_^

~

       Having awakened late in the day, Bulma was already gone before Vegeta awoke. He ate quickly and headed out to the gravity room which was, much to his frustration, now passcode locked with an aggrivating note on the front from the only person who could have coded the lock. Burning the note to assuage his anger, he trained lightly outside for a few hours, again growing weary long before he should have, all things considered. Still, he felt increasingly better since the day before.

       He wandered aimlessly about the house, never having felt so bored in his life. He cursed having only one thing that occupied his time…he had never considered what he would do with himself if not able to train. He searched through random drawers in the kitchen, coming across a deck of cards… 'playing cards' he read. Inside the small box was a set of instructions for a seemingly simple game.

       Settling himself at the table with the cards, he carefully read the instructions, painstakingly laying out the cards to play 'solitaire'. He played according to the instructions…and lost. He tried again, and lost. He was quickly becoming frustrated, how could one lose when they were playing alone, against themselves? 

       But no, it was the cards beating him. If not in the correct order, it was virtually impossible to win. Having hours of time on hand with nothing to do, he set about figuring several ways to order the cards to ensure a win. He shuffled them face down, mentally remembering which card was which. With his 'shuffled' deck he played again.

       Lost again.

       He threw the cards across the room in agitation, watching with no small pleasure as they scattered about the kitchen. 

       "Oh, 52 pick-up, _my favorite_," came a voice from the doorway, decidedly feminine with heavy overtones of sarcasm. He glared briefly at Bulma, and then back at the cards on the floor. 

       "52 pick-up?"

       "It's a game that no one plays, where you throw the cards everywhere, and then pick them up. There's fifty-two cards in the deck, which you may have noticed. What were you doing with the cards anyway?" 

       "This." He shoved the instruction booklet into her hand.

       "Solitaire's fun." She remarked handing the instructions back to him.

       "If by fun you mean frustrating and impossible to win, then yes, it is 'fun'." She coughed into her hand, trying not to laugh. "I know you're laughing, might as well get it out." She chuckled softly, and began picking the cards up. 

       "You help me pick these up, since you made the mess, and I'll show you how to win Solitaire, it won't work every time, but I've found that my way increases the odds a bit." Bending over in the chair, he picked up one card, set it on the table, and settled back to wait.

       "Bastard." She muttered, causing him to smirk.

       "It isn't adviseable to treat your mate in such a way…" He noted, she looked back at him, one eyebrow arched questioningly.

       "Don't push your luck pal, I've got worse. Yamcha would have kissed my feet had I _only_ called him a bastard." 

       "Now there's a sight I wouldn't mind witnessing…" She snorted and stood, having finished cleaning up the deck. She laid out the cards before him for the game, leaning over his shoulder. "Now play until you get stuck."

       He glowered up at her, and she seated herself beside him. He played again, and got stuck. 

       "I don't know about you, but I only like a game when I win once in a while. And since this is one you play alone, I figure it's okay to alter the rules a bit. When I get stuck, I just turn over the cards one by one, instead of in three's. You can still lose that way, but it's a lot easier to win too."

       Following her advice, he won, but looked less than satisfied afterwards.

       "That was like cheating," he remarked.

       "Well I never said I was going to give you a super strategy…"

       "I never thought that you would be the cheating type…"

       "I never cheat when it really matters." She replied slyly. Placing the cards back in a stack, she shuffled them, and dealt them each five cards.

       "You interested in learning poker?"

~

       A pair of ebony eyes stared challengingly into a set of clear blue over five cards. 

       "You go."

       "You go."

       "You assume that since I'm the woman in this relationship that I should submit and lay down first."

       "Where do you get this stuff? What relationship?"

       "Psychology class in high school. We're friends, I'm assuming. I mean, we've been playing poker since this afternoon, stopping only for food and bathroom. And really we barely stopped for food. We've gone that long without killing one another, and to some degree enjoying each other's company. I call that friendship. I mean, you haven't insulted me once since I got home--"

       "Bitch."

       "Bastard."

       "Just lay down the damn cards already! Good gods…" She stuck her tongue out, and kept her hand in front of her face.

       "We do it together, on three."

       "Fine."

       "One, two, three…" Silence.

       "You didn't lay it down!"

       "Neither did you!"

       "This isn't working."

       "Mistress of the obvious…"

       "Shut up."

       "After you."

       "Ladies first…" A growl from the darker of the pair.

       "I'm not a woman."

       "Yeah? A little insecure are we? Prove it." 

       "I'm _not_ undressing for you. You'd like it _far_ too much. Besides, I think I've already proved that, oh pregnant one."

       "I'd like it far too much, he says. What a comedian. I'd probably throw up, damn that morning sickness!" Large hands reached across the table, cupping her face, pulling their lips together. He pulled away after a moment.

       "Still think I'm a woman?"

       "Possibly."

       "Then you're a lesbian."

       "No I'm not!"

       "Prove it…" This time it was she that leaned across the table, kissing him more deeply than she'd first intended.

       She pulled back, sat down again. 

       "This is getting us nowhere, you know that."

       "Yes."

       "I'm tired."

       "I know, and you're making me tired. Quit it. I've had my share of being tired these past few days."

       "Join the club."

       "What?"

       "Nevermind. Let's go to bed."

       "Let's?" A suggestive smirk drifted across his face. She rolled her eyes.

       "You go to your bed, I go to mine. We will go to bed seperately, at the same time."

       "Are you sure we don't go to the same bed at different times?"

       "Quite sure. Why, you horny?"

       "Possibly."

       "Possibly? You're not sure?"

       "Possibly as in I'm horny, but not necessarily for you. Though I'm having my doubts about now…"

       "Quit undressing me with your eyes."

       "You don't know that I'm doing that."

       "Except that I know you're getting somewhat aroused over there. Go to bed before you get any ideas."

       "Funny, all my ideas involving going to bed have something to do with you…"

       "How very flattering, but it ain't happening bud."

       "No?"

       "No."

       "I'm going to bed."

       "Is there an echo in here?"

       "Perhaps." He laid his cards on the table, standing to leave.

       "Hah! I win!" She laid down a full house, thoroughly beating his pair of eights.

       "Dammit."

       "Oh yeah, who beat you Vegeta? _I_ did. Yep, _me_, the weak human _woman_ beat the strong Saiyajin man. Ha!"

       "For once. You forget, I won every other hand, hence the reason we're still playing this damn game in the middle of the night. Go to bed." She yawned.

       "I think I will. It was fun." Pecking him on the cheek she disappeared upstairs. Frowning, he rubbed his cheek.

       "Odd creatures, these humans." 

~

See? Wasn't that fun? ^_^ I thought it was. Can anyone say awwwwwww? I can't. 

…

So anyhow…

I think I'm tired. Review please!!!!


	10. ABY 10

Hmmmm….what to write…what to write…AHA! 

Gah…I just realized I made a booboo. Where the freak have Bulma's folks been?!

~

       "What is it human?!" Vegeta questioned furiously, at the end of his patience. Bulma had been staring at him all through breakfast, just _staring_, her hand moving automatically, bringing food to her mouth. The Saiyajin had endured her gaze for as long as he could before finally losing his temper.

       "You eat funny." She stated simply, failing to relieve his anxious curiousity. 

       "What do you mean?" He glared, not liking the slight upturn of her lips in amusement. Blue eyes danced merrily, then darkened as though a new thought, a sobering thought, had crossed her mind.

       "You look cute when you eat…your cheeks puff out from all the food in your mouth." She shrugged. "It's cute." He glanced at her aloofly.

       "That's…nice."

       "I was wondering, that dream you had the other night," he stood from the table, exasperated with her pursuit of the subject.

       "It's not bothering me! For the last time!" He near yelled, dropping his dishes in the sink to be washed by another.

       "No, not that one! I mean the one…the night before last. I saw it…" He turned to her, sharply incredulous.

       "You dreamed that you saw my dream," he proposed. She arched an eyebrow at his desperation. He had hoped…prayed that she had not been part of that dream…just his luck that she saw it.

       "Who was the girl?"

       "What girl?" He questioned, feigning ignorance. She sighed.

       "She had…purple skin, I think, and blonde hair. She looked young, around fifteen—"

       "She was sixteen, and that's as old as she ever got, and that's all you need to know," he spat out in a rush, and headed out the door with near superhuman speed. He didn't want to appear to be running from a human woman, after all. She rose a followed him.

       "Vegeta, please. I'm not asking for your life story here."

       "Well it's a part of my life I'd rather not discuss." He replied, still moving towards the Gravity room and speaking to her over his shoulder.

       "It's still locked…" He stopped suddenly, causing her to nearly run into his back.

       "Well then open it, dammit," he spoke in a soft, dangerous tone.

       "Tell me about her."

       "Open it now, or you risk your life, human."

       "Judging by all the wonderful things involved in this 'bond' so far, I sincerely doubt you could lay a hand on me."

       "I could always blast my way into the thing…"

       "You'd be in…and it wouldn't work. Great thinking, genius. Would you just tell me? It can't be that bad!"

       He spun, eyes glittering murderously. 

       "Her name was Amai, she was Corradian. We got _intimate_, if you will. Frieza got pissed, she got raped and killed, in front of yours truly. End of story. _Don't_ speak of it again. Now open it!" He was still glaring at her, fists shaking vaguely in rage. Her mouth was open in a stunned fashion, her eyes reflecting the workings of her mind as she tried in vain to find the right thing to say. A comforting word…an apology, anything. Regaining her composure slightly, she walked dazedly past him, entering the password, and disabling the lock. 

       She paused as he walked past her up the ramp, causing him to halt also. She looked into his intense gaze for a few moments, before lowering her eyes to the ground. "I'm sorry," she muttered, blushing. He shouldered past her without a response, the door closing with a thud of finality as he left her presence.

~

       Scum. She felt like the lowest of pond scums…she blackmailed him into telling her of painful memories, those which it seemed even he didn't want to recall. It was no wonder then…she had always pondered why a man that seemed so lonely would only further his solitude by driving all others away. 

       So he does have a heart, she surmised, kicking herself inwardly immediately for the callous thought. 

       A heart that had been broken long ago, by a girl, just like any other teenage boy. No, she corrected herself. Frieza had caused that breaking…Vegeta's teenage years were most likely anything but ordinary for one his age. And the girl could not have been ordinary, not to attract the attention of the young prince.

       Drawing near to the back patio, Bulma settled herself down, trying to relax in a white lawn chair. Thoughts of the man inside the capsule before her plagued incessantly, keeping her from any form of mental relaxation.

       "Thinking deep thoughts?" She started, glancing around quickly to find the source of the voice, her eyes resting lightly upon Goku, standing to her right, just out of view 'til she turned in that direction. 

       "Goku! You scared me!" She stated, somewhat flustered. "What are you doing here, anyhow?"

       "I came out spar with Vegeta…he seems spun up. He never spars quite as well as he does when he's really really mad." 

       "Oh, trust me, he's mad," she blushed, recalling momentarily that it was her undue nosiness that had caused him to be so. 

       "You seem a little…off. You okay?"

       "All things considered, not so hot. I just blew it with him. I was close…clos_er_ to having his trust, and I acted foolishly, digging around in matters that aren't my concern."

       "Oh?" Goku sat himself in a chair beside her, awaiting an explanation that seemed to be forth-coming.

       "I…I saw a dream of his the other night…and there was, this girl…"

       "What did she look like?"

       "Lavender skin, blonde hair—"

       "The Corradian, Amai, was it?"

       "Yes, how did you know?"

       "He mentioned it once…sort of." She arched a fine eyebrow at him.

       "Sort of?"

       "Well, I dealt him a good shot to the head, and he was all but unconscious for an hour or so. He mumbled about some alien girl, as though he was telling me, but not really. She was given to him as a joke after being enslaved."

       "Given as a joke? What do you mean?" His cheeks tinged red.

       "As a, a…_pleasure_ slave. But you and I both know that a Saiyajin can't just do _that_ with whomever. Thus the cruel joke. Apparently, they ended up getting close, and Frieza didn't like his cruelty actually turning out well for the victim…so he, uh, he…"

       "I know the rest," Bulma assured, to Goku's relief. 

       "So you asked about her, huh? I'd say you weren't _totally_ out of line, I mean, you did see the dream, curiousity would be natural."

       She looked at the table in shame, "I blackmailed him." 

       "Oh. That does make things a little harder." Bulma fought to change subjects.

       "So hey, you gonna go wear him out or what? I don't want to deal with all of that temper alone…" He smirked.

       "My pleasure." Bulma returned the smile as he left for the gravity chamber. She quickly exited inside, too embarassed by her past actions to be confronted by the man's glares so soon after. She could still sense his inner turmoil at the morning's events, he seemed to be fighting within himself more than training. His anger grew fiercer and took on a strong tone of annoyance…Goku must have gone in, she surmised. 

~

Darn…and things were going so well, too. Uh, riiiiight. *yawns* OH! Go check out the new msn group, Morbid InFANity! My creation, of course. The link is: 

 http://groups.msn.com/MorbidInFANity/

Enjoy, REVIEW!!!


	11. ABY 11

*sigh* I'm a little stuck on this one…we'll see how it goes I guess. Hopefully it won't be too horrendous. ;)

~

       Having just arrived home from a shopping expedition, Bulma's mother traveled the short distance to her daughter's corner of the complex. She frowned worriedly at the capsule situated between the two living areas as it hummed loudly from use. Vegeta had been training himself near to death, and it bothered the bubbly woman.

       Bunny opened the door to the main room of Bulma's apartment, her tray of sweets in hand. She found her daughter sitting glumly in a large cushioned chair, staring blankly at the wall. She startled at the sound of the blonde's high voice. 

       "Bulma dear, look at al the sweets I got for us, aren't they gorgeous?" She set the tray on the low coffee table between them, pushing it slightly in Bulma's direction. "Won't you try one?" 

       "No thanks Mom, I'm really not that hungry." She responded absently, still halfway lost in thought.

       "But think of the baby! You need to eat and keep your strength up honey." She insisted, handing Bulma a slice of her favorite cake. The younger woman took it hesitantly, the scent of strawberries and butter itching at her nose. Dr. Briefs wandered in, following the scent of sweets…and his wife's heady, over-powering perfume. He grumbled something about Vegeta and cards, took a seat, and promptly devoured a small plate of cookies.

       "Well, maybe just one…" She conceded, and promptly had her face shoved into the dessert as the whole house, indeed the entire complex heaved, a gigantic rumble accosting their eardrums. She cried out into the mashed cake when a sensation of burning heat and horrific pressure hit her full force. 

       Things quieted quickly, after a few vases fell and broke, and Bulma opened her eyes slowly, expecting the entire room to be burning, or leveled. The feeling of heat and force abated somewhat and she pushed it to the back of her mind, realizing at once that these were originating from Vegeta and not the destruction of her abode. 

       From Vegeta…

       She rushed outside, running full out towards the demolished gravity simulator. The entire top half had been blown off and lay in rubble over the bent bottom half. The Saiyan was nowhere in sight. She failed to notice Yamcha following her towards the wreckage and they stopped together a few feet short of the mass of metal. 

       Her heart was pounding, the sound echoing through her whole body. She attempted to calm herself by focusing on that, and discovered a second heartbeat, slower, more forceful, but growing more faint by the second. This in turn made her aware of a third heartbeat, this one quiet, and pattering quickly. She took another deep breath. _I have to calm down_. 

       "Vegeta?" She called, stepping forwards into the heap of rock and twisted metal. She dropped to her knees and began moving the debris piece by piece away from where she sensed movement. She paid no attention to the burns the hot material left on her hands, nor the scratches and cuts her fingers endured from the sharp edges. Mere moments passed before a hand shot out of the pile, startling her backwards into Yamcha, the two collapsing into the ground as Vegeta pulled himself free. Bulma quickly moved away from the warrior, watching the Saiyans progress closely. 

       "Are you okay?" She questioned of the bloodied man before her, who scowled.

       "Of _course_ I am," he growled, managing a standing position, his knees shaking noticeably beneath his battered form. She sighed, half in relief and half in annoyance. Then a menacing light entered her eyes as she raised her gaze back to the Saiyan. 

       "You idiot! You almost leveled my house!" She raged. All at once he collapsed, landing heavily on his back. 

       "Oh my god…" She rushed forward, pulling his heavy upper torso onto her lap. She ignored the tingling of her fingers where she touched him. "What did you do to yourself this time…" She whispered in exasperation.

       "I'm…fine. I don't need your…help," he managed, eyes narrowed. With a mighty effort he pulled away, only to collapse again before her. 

       "Go get my dad, Yamcha. Have him get a stretcher down here with four bots." He hesitated for a moment before seeing the determined, displeased look she bore, and then hurried away.

       They rushed Vegeta to the medical ward, where Bulma was forced to wait outside as his wounds were dressed and burns tended. She sat in a chair right outside with her head in her hands, shivering in agony as the lack of anesthetic applied to the unconscious man took its toll on her. Unable to bear it any longer, Bulma entered the room against her father's insistence that she stay out. Preparing an adequate dose of morphine, she handed it to the nurse to administer. After all, who knew when the injured man might awaken?

       Moments later relief was granted to her, and Bulma went back to wait with her parents.

       Three hours passed with agonizing slowness, and finally Vegeta was moved to a hospital-like room where the Briefs could visit him.  Bulma knelt by the side of the bed, trying hard to calm herself further for the sake of the distressed child within her womb. Mrs. Briefs clutched her husbands arm, weeping. The doctor himself made note of the resilience of the Saiyan, and how amazing it was that Vegeta had survived. The older couple left after a few minutes had passed, and Bulma rose also, leaving a small kiss on the Saiyans oxygen mask. 

       She seated herself at the desk beside the bed, laying her head on her forearms. Almost immediately sleep claimed her exhausted mind.

~

       Not more than an hour later she drifted back into consciousness, awakened by groans and mumbled words originating from the sleeping Saiyan. Frowning, she settled her head and arms back on the desk and fell once more into slumber. 

       Vegeta's eyes snapped open, eyes staring at the ceiling for a long moment while he calmed his breathing. Tiny movements tickled at the edge of his vision, and he carefully turned his head to the side, face twitching into a scowl. His mind tried to puzzle out her presence, but failed. 'What is _she_ doing here,' he thought, quietly sitting up and planting his feet on the floor. He stood, leaving the sheets on the bed as he crept out of the room in search of clothing. Bulma had obviously kept it in another room, as if the lack of covering would keep him in bed longer. 

       As if.

       Clad only in the various bandages wrapped around his body, he gimped from the room, frowning as blood trickled down his leg from a wound near his hip. Looking back towards the hospital room, he rolled his eyes at the bloody trail of footprints staining the white tile. A stray though made him pause in his travel, blinking slowly.

       White tile. 

       No part of Capsule Corp that he had been to had white tile, aside from the kitchen and bathrooms. Just where the hell was he? A sign to his right read 'MEDICAL WARD' in large dark letters. 'Well obviously,' he sneered, 'but it doesn't help me any.'

       He proceeded down the hallways, disliking the feeling of complete disorientation this place was giving him. The place was like a maze, and he was about to return to the room with Bulma when he turned another corner and a door to the outside presented itself. 

       "Finally," he grumbled, reaching for the bar that would unlatch the door. 

       Locked.

       Signs surrounding the door marked it as an emergency exit, and warned that it was connected to an alarm. 

       "Like I give a shit." Balling his hand into a fist, he thrust it through the glass in the door, grimacing as the wire within crisscrossing the pane aided the broken glass in shredding his hand. One hundred feet down the hallway, Bulma skidded around the corner, stopping to stare at him. He glared back as his hand continued to clear a hole large enough to fit through. His vision grew dim momentarily from blood loss, but he forced himself awake, and rose to hover just above the ground. 

       "Vegeta," she called warningly as he began to carefully pull himself through the opening. She took off towards him at a run, unsure of what to do when she reached him. If she even arrived in time. 

       Her footsteps echoed through the silent corridor and stopped as she halted at the door, glaring through the mangled window at the smirking Saiyan.

       "You're not well enough to be out of bed. You've left a river of blood in my medical ward and I know that glass shouldn't have left a scratch on you," she gestured to his hand, now bleeding profusely.

       "Your attempts might have kept your bitch-slapped friends in there, but I have better things to do than lie about like an invalid. Leave me alone."

       "Vegeta!" She cried out peevishly as he stalked away. "You're…you're still naked! And you're outside! I can't believe you!" She was shaking with anger and, though she refused to allow it to register, worry. He was limping, his hip still gushing blood, and now his entire forearm was covered in it. Bandages wrapped his chest, helping to heal the broken ribs beneath his darkly bruised skin.

       "Shit shit SHIT!" She turned on her heel, stalking at the nearest intercom to summon cleaner bots and unlock the mangled door. It was going to be a _long_ recovery.

~

Alrighty then, I finally got a chapter out! I promise the wait won't be so long on the next one, seeing as I already have it started.  Thanks for your patience!


	12. ABY 12

Well, I just can't apologize enough to you guys. I have a million good excuses for my absence, but you're here to read, not listen my griping about how much life sucks. Besides, I'm sure everyone here has had their share of life suckage. 

    So, having been given a sort-of break in the suckage, I'm finally feeling the writing itch again. Enjoy, and please feel free to rant at me for not writing. 

~

       Vegeta finished his pitiful limp to his bedroom, ignoring the messy trail of blood he left in his wake. His mind remained fuzzy from his injuries and the drugs administered to him. He couldn't even think of a real reason for not remaining in the hospital room. It certainly would have been the smart thing to do, if not the most convenient. 

       Not that leaving the room before he was even close to healed was all that convenient, it just seemed like the thing to do at the time. Of course now that the thing was done he couldn't go back in of his own volition, that would be admitting defeat and weakness.  He felt some strong, primal need to appear invincible in front of Bulma. 

       Thinking on that instinct, he realized that walking out of the compound in a trail of gore and dizziness probably wasn't the display of fortitude he was seeking, either. All in all, he concluded that it just had not been a well thought-through decision on his part.  

       Sighing quietly at this further proof of his own failings, he roughly palmed the button to open his door. After entering the sparsely furnished establishment, he stood motionless, wondering what to do next. This really, really had not been his best idea. Because of his exertion removing himself from the hospital room he was now bleeding profusely, and most of his bandages needed changing. Showering wouldn't help anything, neither would getting dressed. Lying down to sleep would only soil his bed irreparably, and he might not wake up.  Which really wouldn't be that horrible an idea either.

       He took a step towards the bed and eternal relief when his vision went gray. He swayed, almost falling until he caught himself with a bloody hand on the wall. 

       Definitely not the brightest idea. 

       He slumped limply to the floor, leaning his head against the wall as a wave of pure exhaustion hit him hard. It would feel so nice, just to go to sleep right now. He pushed himself to sit up, valiantly trying to pull himself out of his stupor. This wasn't working. Leaving was not just a bad idea, it was a terrible one. 

       Searching tiredly through his mind, he found that other consciousness, Bulma, now piqued with great worry. He attempted to reach out to her, unsure if he was actually allowing himself to call for help. 

       A tiny existence within her mind drew his attention, and his thoughts lingered there for a moment. Why did that being even exist? What right did it have to force itself into his life, into its mother's life at such an inopportune moment? Didn't it realize how unwanted it was?

       Unwanted. He recoiled from that thought, regretted even thinking it. The child would not be unwanted, he would not, could not allow it. No one deserved that, certainly not a child of his.  His. His child. He tested out the sound of that in his own mind, deciding quickly that he liked it. 

       He couldn't leave that child, no matter how much easier it would make things. He was tired, so tired of life and all its hardships, but this person, one that he had helped create, would not go through it without his help. He couldn't find it within himself to abandon it. 

       This was it, he realized, his display of strength. He plucked weakly at her thoughts, crying out inwardly in pain, regret, shame, in frustration at himself. He was strong, strong enough to admit to one person, and only one, just this once, how stupid he was. 

       The darkness crept in, and finally claimed him. 

~

       Bulma stumbled in her walk to her bedroom. She stopped dead, feeling an almost physical pull towards Vegeta's room. His voice whispered through her mind, a wordless cry that somehow contained more emotion than any cry from his mouth ever could. She began walking slowly towards his location, her steps quickening as that cry came once more into her mind, then fell silent. A sickening dread turned her stomach, and she absently hit the panic button on an intercom as she passed it. 

       The pull on her grew stronger, she found Vegeta hunched against the wall. The carpet surrounding him squelched beneath her feet, well saturated with blood. He was still naked, and very unconscious. His breaths came slow and shallow, everything about him emanating weakness and, for the first time that she knew of, frailness. 

       She knelt before him, placing a hand gently on one cool cheek. "Vegeta," she whispered. She tried again, and louder, hoping to get some response.  She didn't see even a twitch of an eyelid, and pointlessly tried to push down the panic rising in her. "You're not supposed to do this to me, Vegeta. You're supposed to be strong and stubborn and hopelessly frustrating…I've never known you to be this, this _stupid_. And not that I need you that bad but…but what about our baby? Doesn't he get a daddy? Oh God, that sounds so weird. Since when do you look like a daddy? I don't feel much like a mom either…Wake _up_ dammit!" She gave him one hard shove, tears of frustration sliding down her cheeks as she babbled, still hoping for some response. 

       The emergency medics arrived after what seemed like an eternity. Vegeta was quickly transferred to a stretcher and administered to as they moved him back into the Medical Ward.  Bulma stumbled a few steps after them, then collapsed, exhaustion overruling all attempts to keep moving. She curled into a pained ball on the floor, her head throbbing intensely where it struck the ground. Her eyes were shut in a moment, her breaths coming more quickly than normal, but not fast enough to worry about. One of the medics not aiding Vegeta hung back long enough to make sure she was okay and throw a blanket over her fatigued form. Then he too was gone. 

~

       Three days later Vegeta awoke to find the ever-faithful Bulma once again sleeping at the desk beside the bed. He frowned thoughtfully at her, noting the dark circles under her eyes and the delicate scowl creasing her forehead. Why was she here, wearing herself out over him? Was this some hidden side effect of their link, that she would be forced to care about his health? 

       He turned his head to stare at the ceiling, scowling as his attention turned inward. What was going on between them? They seemed to be able to tolerate one another more than usual, had even stayed up late playing some foolish game together. They had kissed…it had been more than meaningless, just part of their halfway friendly bantering. Still, it had been pretty nice, he concluded. 

       However, it was still a pleasure he had no intention of becoming accustomed to. She had betrayed his trust the very next morning, blackmailing him into revealing things that he didn't want her, or anyone, to know. A small part of him argued that he had wanted to tell her, tell someone, to finally receive comfort from someone he knew would likely give it. He had built his reputation on being the most stubborn, obstinate creature in the universe. He could just as easily have kept his mouth shut and she would have given in within a day or so. 

       Broken trust or not, she had certainly earned it again quickly. He still could scarcely believe how much he had trusted her, called out to her. She was the only person he had willingly allowed near him while he was near death; there had always been the threat of betrayal and death before. And it wasn't because she was too weak to hurt him; in the state he was in, just sitting there doing nothing would have killed him. 

       She stirred softly and he stiffened, but she only shifted positions and continued in her slumber. He studied her features closely, noting how soft she appeared, how gentle. That tiny scowl, she was a force to be reckoned with, something all of her friends knew and respected. They rarely crossed her, and then only from a great distance. The first time the group had witnessed Vegeta picking a fight with her, they had all been stunned, unsure of whether they should be in awe of his bravery or his sheer stupidity. 

       He saw a more pure, far more innocent, much more open version of himself in the woman before him. She had more backbone than most of the fighters in their little posse, though she had little strength to back it up. She kept up the pretense of being untouchable and somehow always managed to provide the one key to their success. She was tough, independent, had no need of anyone. But strong as she was, or appeared to be, he could still hear her crying at night down the hall, could still sense in his mind how much her heart was breaking at the thought of being strong and alone for the rest of her life. How many dreams she saw shattering before her eyes, and she grieved over them all. The gorgeous wedding that would never take place, the children she would never raise with her husband, the swing on the porch she would not share with that man when they were gray and wrinkled. 

       He scowled, returning his gaze to the ceiling. He had never wanted to take those things from her, and he simply couldn't be that for her. It just wasn't his place. Even if he ever had real love for her, she could never accept him, always wondering if it was genuine or just pity. Just another side effect of their connection. On top of that, he just couldn't afford to be that open with anyone. Already she knew too much. If she learned more, she would soon reach a point where she could not stand even the sight of him, much less attempt to love him. It just wasn't possible for him. No one was that compassionate, that loving, that understanding.

       There was just no easy way out, no happy way that he could see. 

       Perhaps, just maybe, he could try to be her friend, and that would help heal the damage they had caused. It was the most he could do. 

~

Well folks, I can't promise a quick update, but I really hope you enjoyed this. It feels so good to be writing again!! Anyway, if you found the time to read this, thank you SOOOOO much! And a review would be awesome, even if you only came to yell at me for taking so darn long. _ 

    I'm hoping to put an ending on Perfum N 18 (it's incredibly overdue, I'm sorry!!) so this may have to wait till that is done. 

    Anyhow, thank you again!! I love you all!


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